Jem struggled down the alley way, gasping for breath.
"Will! Tessa!" He shouted, or tried to, what emerged was really more of a squeak. His legs trembled and Jem clung to the wall for support, his hands leaving long, red streaks on the brick buildings.
"Anyone?" Blood was dripping from his mouth. Jem wiped at it with his sleeve, the pure white fabric stained crimson. He was dimly aware that tears were mingling with the blood on his chin as he whimpered in pain. Jem didn't want to die like this. No. He was supposed to be at the Institute with Will, Tessa, Charlotte, Henry. The people who had become his family. But the yin fen had run out and Jem hadn't found more. He had gone out in one last, desperate attempt to seek the drug. The exertion had proved too much, his already frail body couldn't stand the stress and excitement of the journey and now it was failing. He coughed painfully, his lungs burning and more blood trickled from his mouth. Jem lunged forward, trying to grab onto a window, trying to drag himself back to the carriage. He cursed with all the strength he had left, it had been stupid to tell Cyril to wait with the horses. Jem's fingertips grazed the ledge and slipped. He dropped heavily to one knee. He tried to rise, his feet scrabbling over the dirty cobblestones, but to no avail. Jem collapsed, the fight gone completely out of him. He wasn't strong enough to make it, but he had always known that. Jem rolled over onto his back, staring up at the starry sky, his breathing harsh and ragged. It started to rain, small drops that adorned his hair and lashes with small beads. Jem coughed again, he couldn't feel his fingers. He smiled as the edges of his vision began to fade into darkness. At last, this was death then. He regretted that he wouldn't see Tessa, tell her he loved her a final time, but she would be fine. She was strong. She could keep Will steady and maybe he would survive too. Jem's silver eyes drifted slowly shut. The cool rain continued to fall on his face, but he could no longer feel it.
Will raced up to the carriage, saw Cyril leaning against it.
"Jem!" he shouted, "where's Jem?" Cyril turned towards him, startled.
"He was going to check the ifrit den again, I think." The man said hesitantly, a little alarmed by Will's wild appearance. "He told me to watch the horses." Will stared at him, his eyes huge, before turning and sprinting away. Will ran down the alleys, feeling like he had been stabbed in the chest. It was hard to breathe, Jem, something had happened to Jem, he just knew. He navigated the alley's, as a light rain began to fall. Will turned a corner and stopped suddenly. Jem. He was lying in the middle of the alley, his face smeared and bloody, his shirt drenched with the stuff. Will ran to him, kneeling over the still figure.
"Jem, no Jem," Will choked on the words, Jem was so still, paler that Will had ever seen him. He knew. He knew that this was only the empty shell of the man he had loved. "JEM!" He howled, tears mixing with the raindrops on his face. Will had failed, he had not been there as Jem took his final breaths. He wondered if Jem had been afraid, if he had suffered because if he had, it was his fault. Will gathered the body into his arms, Jem's head lolled limply against his shirt. Will closed his eyes, fighting for breath. He brushed a strand of silvery hair from Jem's still warm face.
"Don't be dead Jem, please don't be dead." But he was and nothing Will did could ever change that. Will trudged back to the carriage with Jem's too-light body in his arms. Cyril started when he saw what Will carried. He opened the door for Will, then readied the horses to go. Will climbed into the back of the carriage. His black hair was plastered to his head and he was probably ruining the carriage's upholstery, but none of those things mattered. Jem had mattered. And now he was gone. The carriage started forwards with a lurch. Will clung to Jem's body, a kind of tingling numbness spreading through him as sobs began to wrack his frame. How would he ever tell Tessa?